I do have the next installment almost ready. In the meantime, would anybody care to say what you think is going to happen next? I have the story all plotted out and I won't be changing it, so it would be interesting to hear what impressions I have given so far.

Lingua wrote:I have BEEN to Georgia and I KNOW that mountain and those high plains!

You HAVE? I was so sure that I picked one corner of the earth so remote and exotic that nobody would have even heard of it. You must be very well travelled. I'd love to hear about it some day.

Tuima, you can be sure that if I ever publish anything for real, you will get a copy signed "Thank you for your support and inspiration", and so will everybody who replied to this thread. But first, I need to finish my first story.

I want to repeat that I am very interested in any constructive criticism you care to give me. My ego's so healthy I have to dress it at Big and Tall.

A day later, we rode up Mkinvari’s slippery root and saw the houses of Gingush cling together like wet grapes in a bunch. My father and I, and Givi for the third man, were all in our finest clothes and gear. But leather was sprayed with mud and neither silver nor copper would shine in the damp air.

We made the last turn with the muddy street. Girel, Tamiko’s mother, walked down the stone path to greet us. She was a tall woman, dark and proud of face, but her eyes were wide with worry.

“Peace unto this house,” said father, standing up in the stirrups politely.

“And good health to you and your family. Yet there is no peace in my house today. But come in and be welcome and I will tell you of our misfortune.”

We followed Girel to the stable. It was empty except for the two mules and Tamiko’s bay mare. In the house, too, we saw only Girel’s youngest daughter. She ran into the kitchen to get the food for us, but not before I saw that her eyes were red and lips thick with tears.

Nothing was to be said until the guests have eaten. There were cheese and wine, and flatbread and cold mutton, and many apologies from Girel for the meager welcome. Givi hardly swallowed a bite. I knew what his thoughts were – of his foolish songs where thwarted lovers dashed themselves from the cliffs. Nonsense, I thought. But my throat closed around food.

As soon as it was polite, my father asked the question.

"Tell me, Girel, what trouble has visited your household and we will do what we can to turn it away, my son and I."

Girel would not sob in front of three guests, but I heard her voice check as she fought to steady it.

"It is no doing of yours, Sachi, nor your son's. My daughter, my foolish daughter left the house before the first light..."

She had to stop, fighting for breath, but it was clear enough. Tamiko ran from me as if I were indeed a mudslide. I swallowed the insult like a mouthful of too-hot broth.

Father stayed silent, his injured pride checked by Girel’s grief. Just as well that the men were away, I thought. Then Givi spoke in his softest voice.

“The men of your house must have gone after her, then, to see to her safety. Which road did they think she would take, do you know, Mother?”

“We have relatives in some villages down at Chaushke. Alamys would be looking to see whether she stayed with any of them. They should be back soon, now.”

Givi nodded politely and didn’t look at me. Her horse was in the stables, I thought. If she were walking and they riding, they would all be home long before now. Even if Tamiko refused to come back, one of the brothers would still return to bring their mother a word.

“The Darlagir Pass way? No. She would not take that road in this weather and alone. Why would she go away from the Three Mountains? She knows what men are like down below.” I heard new terror rise in the mother’s voice.

“Tamiko would not go that way,” my father agreed. “Do not trouble yourself about that, Girel.”

But Tamiko left her horse behind, when she must have wanted speed. Was she alone? Did Behoe come for her, with horses ready? I remembered his look at Lykhnasta, desperate and wholly defeated and didn’t think he would. If she left alone, the road over the high passes was where her horse could not go, and where her father would not think of looking.

This is not my sheep to shear, I thought. Tamiko could follow any road she wanted, all the way down to the sea if it pleased her. But Girel was right about the upper way. In places, it was only a wrinkle in a sheer wall. The stones would be slippery with rain, and maybe ice, and the wind would whip and whirl suddenly above the mist-filled gorges. Nor was it safe for a woman to go alone among the fierce folks on the far side, who had neither respect nor fear of her family. There, each village spoke a language of its own, and families did not store winter hay in their barns for fear of a neighbor setting fire to hay and burning the house with it.

“It is best to be sure,” I said, although I would much prefer to keep quiet. I held back a sigh and finished. “It is my doing, Mother, although I never wished any harm to your house. I think I should follow the upper road myself, long enough at least to see that your daughter didn’t go that way.”

-----
Edited for typos.

Last edited by Frelga on Sun May 16, 2004 7:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I am luuuuuuvin' this story!! I keep trying to find a reason to correct something, but I just can't... I don't want to correct, I don't want to second-guess, I don't want to predict, I simply want MORE! No, you don't want to know about my time in Georgia, it was during the Soviet time, a most unpleasant tale... I do know the area, though, and I think you capture it well.

I love it!! I can't wait for more!!!! My guess what going to be that when he went down to talk to her and her family, they would fight or something and he would be disgraced and would have to leave and would go down to the kingdom by the sea with his griend. But now, its better!!!!

Aaahh, Frelga! Where's the next installment? Hurry hurry please!! I asks. I begs. I want to find out what happens next!! pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!!! Want more! *attempts to calm self by re-reading previous chapters. Then reaches end of writing and freaks out all over again*.
If you've seen some really weird stories called "Muse Quest", or read the "What Fans do to other Fans" thread on this forum, you will see the extreme lengths to which my friends and I will go to ensure our favorite authors do not stop writing. Do you want me to round up the other Immies and hunt for your muses up and down the Georgian mountains? I didn't think so.
Apologies for lapse in sanity. Consider my weirdness as a compliment to your amazing story. You might also want to consider it as an incentive to write soon. I will only get weirder if you don't.

LOL Tuima. I'm typing, I'm typing... And then I start to edit. And then I edit the story into such a state that my Beta can't tell who is doing what where, or why they bother doing anything at all. I have to keep my Beta happy, I'm married to him.

I started the Muse Quest, and it is hilarious if disturbing. (nervous laugh).

To make things worse, I got an idea for a sequel to "Truth", which could be novel-length. I even have a title, "The wrong side of the mountain" (do I need to say that I am terrible at titles?), and a short, sappy bit that could go somewhere in the middle.

But I won't do anything with it until I finish this story. Actually, I probably won't do anything with it, period.

Well, it's always good to have something to look forward to... I used to write all the parts I was looking foward to before I got there and then I'd get bored with the rest of it It doesn't matter if you do it or not, I'd say, just having it there will make you feel better.

I just couldn't help it. Suddenly I found myself wanting to put that half-baked fragment up here for everyone to see. So here it is. Treacle warning.

A germ from the possible sequel to this story that Frelga wrote:"What is on your heart, Givi, my friend?"

"Doubt, Radesh. I can see no way home, through war and plundering. Can one not put down roots into a new soil? Is the sea any less beautiful and deadly than the mountains? Is it so wrong to want to stay?"

I looked up to the horizon, where the tip of Mkinvari shimmered through the haze. Up in the meadows, the hay would be rolled tightly for winter. Young men would practice their archery on the stacked bales, getting ready for Lykhnasta. Two families would mourn their sons, and a girl would weep on the day that was to be her wedding.

There was no need to tell that to Givi. He knew. But his eyes were on the vineyard, where the copper-haired girl was tying up the vines.

"Is the heart ever wrong?" I said with a sigh. "Foolish, maybe, but not wrong. Now, my heart is high in the hills, under the red cliffs. Shall I abandon it there? Or shall you leave yours behind on the shores?"

Whew, that was... therapeutic, somehow. I don't know why they are suddenly talking in interrogative sentences...

I decided to ride as far up the trail as I could. Givi went along and would return with both horses. The drizzle stopped, the gray sky brightened to blue and then deepened into grape-purple, as the two of us raced towards the upper road. We galloped across the shallow valley, down the brief descents and up the ever-longer climbs, riding faster, perhaps, than was wise on the sodden trail. It was more dangerous to be caught in the open after dark.

We reached the roadmeet in time to watch the fire-lined clouds cool down to heavy blue. There was a canopy of old tent-cloth that served as shelter for travelers. From spring to autumn folks would come here from Gingush and Aksu to sell supplies for traders leaving and returning. I hoped that Tamiko would go no further that day. But we found no one, only wet ashes of an old fire.

I walked the horses and drew water for them when they rested. Givi saw to the fire and food. For a short time, I felt at peace, with the stars above and the fire below and my friend next to me. Then I began to wonder again whether I was making a fool of myself, riding up an empty trail. I should turn back, I thought. But if Tamiko was out there, if she came to grief on the treacherous path, how could I ever look her mother in the face?

“Do you think Behoe is with her?” I asked.

“Not likely. Was he not going back to the upper meadows after Lykhnasta? Their sheep would only just be back, I think. His family keeps them up there late, so they grow that famous wool.” After a thought, Givi added, “That’s how Tamiko met him, you know. She came to his aunt about weaving or spinning or whatever it is they do with it.”

“Is that another thing your sister told you?”

“It is, as a matter of fact,” Givi grinned at me. “She also told me that Tamiko must have her head stuffed with wool and her eyes frozen shut to choose Behoe over Radesh.”

I tried to scowl but could not help grinning back. It eased my heart to hear that someone at least did not think marrying me was worse than leaving home and risking death on the high trails.

“And if she is alone,” Givi went on, serious again, “what will you do then?”

I found that I had no answer to that.

A little later, I curled to sleep under my burka, the wide-shouldered felt cloak that is a shepherd’s bed and house. I had my best with me, gray with silver braiding at the throat, and wished I had my warmest instead. Givi took the watch by the fire. He was ready to let me rest all night before my trek next day. Instead, I woke up early enough for him to get some sleep and for me to spend some time thinking. What was I going to do when I caught up with the girl who refused to marry me?

“Givi,” I said in the morning, “there’s something you could do for me.”

“I’ll do it, then. What is it?”

“When you go back, would you go through Aksu and see if Behoe is there? Tell him I will take Tamiko over the first pass and stop at Kazbegi. Tell him I’ll wait there with her, two nights, before I turn back home.”

Last edited by Frelga on Sun Jun 13, 2004 11:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.

It reads well, but the style is not my cup of tea. It's like you are telling the story instead of showing it. Some like this style, but I really never have. Don't take it personally.

It just seems to me that saying "My heart beats fast." Carries less emotion and thought process than saying "His heart beat fast."
You could say, "My heart pounded in my chest, racing with every wave of fear."

I don't know. I'm trying to explain why I don't like this style and I end up making it more complicated. Maybe I just can't explain it. I prefer to listen in on thoughts of characters, not having them tell their every thought and desire to me - DIRECTLY TO ME.

Like I said, some like this personal aspect, but I'm not a very big fan. Nonetheless, you wrote very well. I didn't find anything worth complaining about, and the style is certainly not a mistake or error - keep on writing that way, because your good at it.

I like it! Mostly I'm happy to be going somewhere again. Apologies for extreme weirdness in my last post -- I swear I'm not usually that strange! And MuseQuest isn't usually that strange either... so far it's the result of my friends and I getting hyper late at night. Once the real story starts all will be well.
Anyway... I kinda agree with Tiger on this last one, but not very much. I actually love your style of writing; that's why I'm such a fan of this story! I say just show his thoughts wandering a little more instead of telling us what he's thinking. Other than that, I love it very very much and happily await the next installment!!

Tuima wrote:I say just show his thoughts wandering a little more instead of telling us what he's thinking. Other than that, I love it very very much and happily await the next installment!!

Hmm, Tuima, that's an interesting thought. Not sure I can pull it off, to tell you the truth.

I hope you won't mind if I fish a little, and may be Tiger would elaborate, too. Do I hear you say that you feel things are spelled out for you too much? Or that you find there is too much introspective in the story? Or that it bogs down and moves too slowly for you?

I realize that a lot of that is subjective, and that's what I'd like to hear - your opinion. I know what I am trying to accomplish, and it's extremely useful to know what is actually coming across, if you take my meaning.

I love it! I generally agree with Tiger's point, but I really enjoy your style. I think it works the way you do it, though generally I'd say 'show, not tell'. There is, after all, an exception to every rule, right?

Luthy, thanks for sticking with the story. And thank you very muchly for your support over at the RP thread. I really, really, really wanted to play, darnit!

I got a chance to see some of your writing, in RP and here on the Moonstone thread, and I am extremely impressed. The Moonstone story was pure magic and absorbed me entirely. Now, believe me, I am not saying it because you were nice to me. It would choke me to give false praise.

Hmm.... again, I think there is something objective in what I'm hearing from you, Tuima and Tiger, beyond personal reaction to a personal style. I just can't quite figure it out. Do you feel that I make everything about Radesh too explicit?

Anybody who's kind enough to read,I a bit stuck with the story at the moment. I am trying to get to the big scene as fast as possible, but there are certain things I wanted to put in before that. If I post the "extended edition" and ask for help in editing, would that be too much of an imposition? Most of all I want to hear is at which points you lose interest in the story.

Once again, my skin is thick and I am seriously interested in improving my writing. So please be frank with me, and I will do my best to keep you entertained.

We see those things happen to the characters, and we can discern what they are feeling. In first-person, you just kinda get told whats going on. This makes for a more relaxed kind of story, without much thinking involved. Hard on a fantasy, I think, because most fantasies rely on people getting sucked into the universe.

I'm currently reading Robert Jordans "The Wheel of Time" series (very good). He puts an interesting spin on things. He will go for pages at a time simply describing environment, or people and what they look like, where they are moving too, etc.

Usually between chapters there are things that happened that weren't neccesarily covered, so the narrator makes a little flashback and skims over what happened. At certain points, the character itself will comment on things.

For example, a friend of the main character was currently in Point of View, and the narrator was commenting on how the main character now wore a red coat, and walked with dignity. Like a king, commented the character. It gave the impression that both you and the character were going over things together.

During dialogue, the character would make comments on things, too (like during talking). Maybe go over in his mind what he should say, what he has to be careful of, swoon over a beautiful woman he's speaking too, etc.

When talking to a powerful magician, after saying something he will ponder in his head just the magnitude of this persons power. Then the magician will reply.

If you are going for a serious, hardcore fantasy, I think it would be difficult to do the style that your doing right now, but not impossible. I think I'm citing Robert Jordan's work as a main example because he does something of the sort that you do, and ALOT of it, but it's scattered around.

Maybe this made some sense? Maybe not. Try a different style, see how you like it. If it doesn't float your boat, dont' worry about it. Writing should be for yourself - do what you like to do, not what others want you to do.

Tiger! You are back! And I think I understand you better now. Are you saying that you would rather read about what characters are doing than what they are feeling? More precisely, you prefer to see feelings expressed through actions? The difference between "I was terrified" and "I flew blindly down the trail with no thought but escape."

If that was your point, it's a very good one and something to keep in mind. Thank you for taking the time to elaborate.

Yep thats basically what I was saying. Sometimes I can be hard to understand. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm saying until I've said it

Oh, and the other point I was making is that it's important to "reflect". After making some statements, or dialogue, have the character or the narrative reflect on what was just said, or bring up past experiences, etc.

There was only a trace of pale light behind Mkinvari’s icy yoke. I gave my horse a rub on the nose, embraced my friend, and set off up the trail, too narrow and steep for horses now. I walked with a light step, pleased with myself for solving my problem so neatly.

The sun had just cleared the icecap, when I found traces of the small fire where Tamiko must have stopped for the night. From there, the trail dropped down to a stream for the last gulp of water, and then switched back and forth as it began to climb in earnest. Halfway up on the other side I saw Tamiko, alone. She moved with the grace of our women, learned from carrying jars of water on their heads up the steep hillsides.

The distance between us was not great across the silvery air, but it was a fair way down, and then up again. A little above where Tamiko was now, the mountainside was swathed in fog of the thickest kind. I knew she must wait there, until the treacherous path became clear.

A steep climb later, I stood at the edge of the milky cloud, with little swirls playing about my head, and found that she did not stop. “Tamiko!” I called. “Wait for me.” No answer. She really should know better, I thought, as I made up my mind to follow.

It was like walking through a bag of wet wool. I could barely see my own feet and there was no telling whether I was about to step on the trail or empty air. “This is madness,” I thought, holding on to the rock wall on my left and straining my ears for the sound of footsteps, or perhaps a scream. Wind began to pick up, and clots of whiteness changed and melted as they moved past me.

Without a warning, the trail brought me to an outcrop that extended out of the mist like a granite spoon from a bowl of milk. Tamiko stood there, only a few steps away from me. In her hands was a short, wooden bow, much lighter than the great horn-and-hornwood one that I left at home. It was strung and bent, and the arrow pointed straight at my heart. At that distance, it would probably go clear through me and keep going.

“Go back, Radesh.”

I gasped for words, but none came. “Go back,” she repeated, and bent the bow even further, bringing the white feathers all the way to her chin. “I will not marry you.”

“Right enough, you will not,” I found my voice, and it was not gentle. “Have I asked you, have I ever told you that I wish to marry you? I will see you safely...”

“I am not going back with you, Radesh,” her voice trembled a little, but the bow in her hand was steady. “You will turn around and start walking home now, or you will have to limp all the way back. Go away.” She lowered her aim. .

I knew she would not kill me, but I thought she might shoot to wound. I took a small step forward. “Would you not listen? I sent...”

“Go!” The arrow hit the path a finger’s breadth from my foot and bounced off the trail. Tamiko was already reaching for the second arrow, but I stood too close. Rushing forward, I pushed her hand with the bow aside until it hit the rock. The bow dropped on the trail and I kicked it behind me, into the fog. Then I retreated quickly, before she could strike at me. The little scratch on her hand was reason enough for her brothers to cut my throat. I didn’t need a battle.

“Tamiko, listen to me!” For the first time in my life, I found myself shouting on a high trail. Both of us looked up for an instant, half expecting an avalanche or a rock slide. “I don’t want you to go back with me. I don’t want you to marry me. But more than that, I don’t want your family to blame me if you kill yourself up at the pass. I at least have some concern for your mother’s worry, if you do not.”

“Oh, I do not, do I? Why do you think I left my home, then? So that my father would not have to refuse you, that was why. I thought no one would look for me up there, and the passes would close and I would be safe, until the spring. You would be married to someone else by then and I could go home. And now?” She caught her breath and finished in a quiet, desperate voice, “Why did you have to follow me?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I sent a word to Aksu that you went up this way. I will go with you as far as Kazbegi, and Behoe can meet you there if he wishes, if he is fool enough. And then I will go back.”

“Behoe?” Tamiko took that in. She offered no apology and asked no question, but her whole posture became softer somehow, where before she stood like a deer at the stream, ready to spring. “That was kind, Radesh. Still, I think you should go home now. It would not be seemly for us to travel together. But I do thank you.” She put her hand out to me. “My bow?” I picked it up and gave it back.

Why she would begin to care now of what was or was not seemly, was beyond my understanding. But when she turned and walked away into the fog, I did not follow. I stood in the spoonful of sunshine, feeling hot and somewhat shaky. Never before have I raised my voice, let alone my hand, to a woman. And now, as she said, what was I to do now? Was I to chase after her, like a sheep-guard puppy? Or go home and tell her mother that I met her daughter and was sent away?

From the ragged whiteness, Tamiko’s voice came, muffled slightly by fog. “Radesh? Radesh, are you there? I think you should take a look at this.”

Last edited by Frelga on Tue Jun 22, 2004 4:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I think you have the general idea down, but are moving too fast. Slow down and describe things. You have 3 actions or so happening in one sentence in several places. The whole thing happened rather quick.

You might want to describe the features on her face, what emotions they are showing, or what the character is thinking.

Just actions and dialogue don't make a story. But you've got the right idea.

I think I agree with Tiger a bit on this one. I loved the dialogue... it was really excellent. But it moved too fast. One minute, he's looking for her, the next, he's found her, the next, she's sending him away. I loved the descriptions of the fog but I think a little more description might make it even better.

Thanks for coming back with comments, Tiger and Luthy. In that light, it might have been a mistake to have thrown out about half a page of description (not all in one chunk, of course) I was just so excited about finally getting some (IMO) acceptable material after writing into the recycling bin for weeks!

The description is probably what I have most trouble with at this point, technique wise. Too much, and the story bogs down, not enough - well, you see what happens.

It's a difficult line to walk. I know that I personally put too much description in, at least for most people's tastes. Anyway, I just wanted to say again that I loved the dialogue! And thankyou for the chocolates

Description is probably the hardest part of writing (at least for me). I have a problem because I am very direct and to the point, and with description you have to slow down and describe things in a much expanded way (where generally I'm rather condensed in my descriptions).

However, it's neccesary. Don't try to write 5 pages of description... hehe..
I did that once and well it wasen't pretty. The basic guidelines I use are firstly: that I describe either person or surroundings first in a chapter. I come up with a broad word to describe the general area (Wasteland, Jungle, Coastland, etc.) and point out a few noteworthy features. This is my most difficult hurdle. Plot, Character, and Dialogue come to me naturally. Description does not. Especially environment.

secondly: I also try to make sure that the character comments in the narrative on the surroundings, for example: "It was very cold, snow crunching beneath his feet as he walked. All I want is a warm fire."

Perhaps a poor example, but you get the point. Generally don't spend more than one paragraph to describe one thing (or feature. Huge palaces need lots of paragraphs). Thirdly: Inbetween Dialogue it's important to let us know how the Characters are reacting to the conversation, where they are moving.

For example: "I didn't know whether he was friend or foe before I shot him." Larren picked up the cup and took a sip. "He was a fellow warrior of the dark. It didn't take much to realize he really was foe; a dagger was in his cloak with the red stripe." Theras started at his mention of the dagger. A red stripe? The mark of assasins... "Perhaps he thought he could sneak up on me..." Larren laughed from behind his cup, his laugh coming in a muffled slurp of tea.

On all I thought you did good with this area of description. You seem to be good at it: add more and it will be great.
Character

Also I might emphasize not throwing out things you write into the recyle bin... Once they are gone you can't get them back, and sometimes they are good ideas . I speak from experience. Try to make us have a sense of time. If 5 minutes talking to someone is longer than hours of walking around, it will confuse the reader.

Frelga, dear Frelga, you insist that I take out my wicked blue editor's pen to tear apart your story...and I never will. I know why you felt you had labored so hard to do this part 5...it is never easy to write about rejection. As humans we try to turn away from rejection, even avoid it entirely, but you had to confront it, if only for your character. I love your style. The ONLY correction is one of grammar, paragraph two in 5.2, you use present and past tense in the same thought. Change the [has] to [had]. That's it. Keep writing, and keep telling me where to find it!!